I want to state this: the Sirius in this story HAS been in Azkaban. He isn't too disheartened anymore and hasn't lost it completely though. He's very much his seventeen-year-old self more than a traumatized hero, with the notorious exception of a few (and truly pointless) tantrums every now and then.
Disclaimer: don't be silly. I couldn't have thought up Harry Potter even if I wanted to… maybe a couple of the characters you don't recognize, but nothing HP-related.
Some faintly useful tips:
Mostly, things written in italics mean some emphasis in the words.
People's thoughts are written like this: «Why would I need to know this? »
Actual talking, between quotation marks: "Erm… thanks for the info"
And just narration goes like this: And the story finally starts after the author's continuous nonsense and prattling on and on… uu,
Now, anticipated thanks for reading the story. Hope you don't hate it all that much.
"And just what do we know about this girl?" I, Sirius Orion Black, was pissed beyond all means. Dumbledore, McGonagall and bloody Remus Lupin want me to allow some wicked girl move into my house. I had volunteered the house for the Order meetings (not that I could do a thing beyond that) that much is true, but not as a bloody hotel! "You've told me that she's been Voldemort's toy-girl/pet and so on and so on, yes, but it doesn't make any sense to me! What could she possibly benefit the Order in? She's a teen, bloody hell!"
Across the table, Moony was giving me his you-are-being-an-ass look, which I, of course, completely ignored. Dumbledore, on the other hand, sat at the end of the table, simply being Dumbledore: "Mister Black," bloody hell, it's been ages since he last called me that. Makes me remember the times when us Marauders were being grounded after being caught in the middle of a prank… "May I hear your suggestion to the current situation?" I just had a feeling that he'd say that...
---
Since some months ago, just a couple days before September 1st; I was having some fun around the house, assisted by one of George and Fred's extensible-ears. If I had to make a wild guess, I'd say the extensible-ear I had wasn't the only survivor of the Molly Massacre of June 23rd. But, back into my story, it was all going on nicely, until I picked McGonagall's voice immediately at my right. Just by her hushed voice, I got the idea that she wasn't supposed to be there. Then the whole expedition went from 'nice' to bloody fascinating.
I couldn't hear as much as I would've liked to, unfortunately. She was talking quickly and nervously (very un-her), actually whispering, but the voice that came after her I did catch perfectly: "I've finally found her. Minerva, I think this is what we've been waiting for. She most probably has all the keys to our success this time." By the time, I was breathless. It was Dumbledore's voice, I had no doubt; but he talked in an intense, extremely agitated voice that freaked me out even more than McGonagall's subdued tone.
A couple minutes after more 'are you completely and absolutely positive that this is our biggest chance, Albus?' and some 'yes Minerva, I am utterly positive'; I caught the hurried farewells and the tip-toeing towards the door. I Apparated in the upper floor instantly, not actually caring whose room it was as long as it kept me from McGonagall's certain rage. Lucky for me it was just Moony's room.
But this was a completely different situation!
They want to put the freakish girl to sleep and stay at my place‼ "Well, there sure must be somewhere else to leave her, no?" I won't lie. I know there is no other way or Dumbledore wouldn't have asked me to do this 'favor' to him… anyways, I like being a dick-head. I had a deep frown (very child-looking according at the glare that Moony was shooting me), but be on my side here people! I didn't want to baby-sit some girl that Voldemort had used as guinea pig!, Please, we're talking about Sirius here, the one that spent 12 years being eaten alive by dementors! I don't own a bloody orphanage nor am I some kind of bloody retired Healer… bloody hell.
"There. Is. Not." Moony said, starting to loose his patience. I looked at the three grim faces around the table. «This fight is lost to Sirius Black», I couldn't help but think. I sighed and rose. There was no solid argument I could give them anymore, and since 'I don't want to' doesn't count as such…
"Fine. She'll stay and I'll keep a constant eye on her." I said, not meaning it at all. Even though that was all that Dumbledore and McGonagall needed to hear, Remus didn't buy a word of it. He glared, scolding me with his eyes. I quickly looked aside, pretending I was oblivious to it all. "I assume you brought her with you, since you've pushed so much." I said, after a heavy sigh. I scratched my nape, staring at Dumbledore… who just smiled and Apparated without moving a finger, followed suite by McGonagall (who didn't resist the urge to stare angrily at me).
Remus still stared at me while I moved up and down the kitchen, making some coffee the muggle way since domestic charms just weren't my thing at all. I ignored him completely, but up to a point he started to annoy me. "May I offer you a cup of my lousy coffee, Mr. Lupin?" I said in an extremely polite voice… so that he knew I was pissed and making fun of him.
"Well of course you may, Sirius my friend!" he teased as well. Damn he's so much better than me at this. "…as long as you don't start bitching about it later you bloody ass!" he snapped right away, extreme irritation in his voice.
Even I was surprised to hear the always-so-composed Remus blurt out like that. I stared at him, surprise tattooed all over my face. I would have dropped the coffee thing if it wasn't already on the table with the cups. "What was that, Sirius? Are you losing your mind? Do you actually think that Dumbledore hadn't thought of everything else there was?" he reprimand me. I cocked an eyebrow. Remus had sure grown older, but he was the same, proper Moony that I used to drive nuts a decade and a half ago. "Are you insane?" Yep, that's his phrase. To him, there's nothing worse than being called 'insane'.
"Well, do I seem like so?" I said, having calmly a seat in front of him. He was hurling flames trough his eyes, but I did my best at not minding it in the very least. He rolled his ambarish eyes and sighed, rubbing stressed his forehead. He tried breathing in and out calmly, and it was kinda difficult to him. «Boy, I've pissed him bad», I thought to myself while sipping from my coffee.
"You know what, Sirius?" No, I certainly do not. "Just don't behave like a thug towards a mentally and physically abused girl, would you? That is the only thing I want. Can you not do that? Are you incapable of that sort of mercy towards other people?" Wow! He's bloody mad as hell! But that… wait… he's too annoyed even for Remus. I stared at him a moment, blankly (with earned me an irritated "What?!", very rude of him by the way). I went across the room, to the muggle calendar Hermione forgot once the vacations were over. «So that was it…» I thought, smiling.
After checking the actual date, it all made sense. Remus wasn't crappy because he didn't have much sleep!, It was hardly a day until full moon‼ "Did Snivellus make the Wolfsbane potion for you, Mr. Lupin?" I said, now more seriously (please, no side-jokes about this and my name, they aren't fun). Remus was about to reply with crescent rage again, but I quickly pointed at the calendar with my thumb while walking towards him. He watched the thing eyes-opened-wide for a second… then he hit his forehead. Really hard, to be true. I stared at him slightly concerned.
"I had completely forgotten of it!" Well, Moony, with your workload… no one would dare blame you. "My God I'm such a waste…" I reached the table and sat beside him, serving him his cup of black coffee. It was warm enough still, so I didn't have to reheat it with my wand. I put the cup in front of him, patting his back while, crestfallen, he muttered nonsense.
"Lucky you to have me around, huh?" I said, trying to bring some humor onto him. He glared straight to my eyes, his head between his hands. My effort didn't seem to work, so I gave him a 'my bad?' look… which he harshly disdained. I sucked my breath in, faking a hurt gesture. "That was nasty, Remus. Doing that sort of thing to your very best friend…" he was about to give out a sharp reply, but a faint 'poof!' announced that the elders were now here. I rolled my eyes, and when I turned around (trying futilely to mask my annoyance), I ended up flabbergasted. Dumbledore had a blank face, quite contrasting with his usual self, while McGonagall looked in the edge of breakdown. Each one of them held the arm of a trembling girl…
And when my eyes met her figure, I felt my heart fall to my feet:
It was the most heartbreaking, excruciating, and soul-wrecking sight that in my life I had ever witnessed.
Not only was she filthy and muddy-colored from plain dirt (let's face it, I wasn't precisely Mr. Clean when I appeared to Harry in that cave). She was skinny like a broomstick, nervous and shaky, looking frantically around her, breathing fast and heavily, bleeding profusely from deep, deep cuts… after less than ten seconds, I turned around, not able to face her at all, taken aback beyond my self-control. To put it in one phrase: she looked as brought from hell. «My God… what have they done to that girl? » I asked myself, scandalized. I had seen people in Azkaban, all quaking and kicked out of their senses… but those had been grown-up bastards, not a tortured fifteen year old!!
I stormed out of the kitchen. I couldn't stand giving my mind anymore thoughts of the wizard's prison. That was surely everything I didn't need, having progressed so much out of the deep depression I had. I owed most of my recovery to Remus alone, who forgave completely my horrid mistake of twelve years. He stood by me like not even my brother would, and I thank him with my heart.
My mind was in mayhem. I walked wrathfully across the house, miraculously not trampling on anything. The only thing that crossed my mind was the sight of that girl. Her exposed bones, the ripped flesh, the crimson puddle that surely would stain the kitchen floor… my God, how hadn't she died yet? For the state she was in, it looked like she had been repeatedly tortured with many different curses. Among the ones that I could think of, I'd say there sure was the Cruciatus curse. I mean, I have no doubt of it since that's any Death Eater's signature. In fact, now that I think of it, she looked like Moony when transforming, half falling apart, half normal…
«My God… how am I going to live with her? I can't even stare over a quarter minute! »
"Sirius… Sirius?" I heard a worried voice inquire, a soft hand holding my arm. Making my way to the haven in which I had Buckbeack 'stored', I ran into Molly Weasley without actually noticing. "You look shaken, are you alright?" I was about to break free from her a little too violently (I just wanted to lock myself until the fear yielded), but I had a wild idea all of sudden. I stared at her for a while, ignoring insolently -but unintentionally- her husband. Then I took her hand in mine and dragged her full-speed to the kitchen. "Sirius, what…?!" she started. But I didn't need to say anything. We'd reached the place, Arthur trailing behind us. When Molly saw the girl, she broke down crying. Even Remus had his eyes wet… and I was to do the same if I didn't escape soon.
---
After that, there wasn't a soul that could take the girl away from Molly.
Patient and carefully, both McGonagall and my cousin cleansed the torn-out creature. It was torturous for everyone in the house, for few numbing spells or potions seemed to work on her. Therefore, they had to just about heal her the muggle way. And therefore, we had to cast an Impassibility Spell on the living room in order to stay sane and free of hearing damage. Don't doubt for a second that the idea of cursing her mute didn't cross my mind; the 'inconvenient' with it was… well, shortening it: magic hardly works on her at all.
Nevertheless, after hours of continuous shrieking in pain, she was spotless. Her wounds had been disinfected with much, much work from Molly, McGonagall, Remus and even Dumbledore. Even after clean, though, the gashes were bleeding free, and since no spell nor potion seemed to work on that, it was decided to close them by burning the crooked gashes with scorching knives. Remus told me that was the worst part of it, but it was that or letting her bleed empty. After that, she was tightly bandaged. It'd been tough, and at the end of the day we had to curse ourselves deaf because the Impassibility Spell turned out to not be enough.
Thankfully, now she was sleeping. She hadn't uttered a single word in the whole day; but other than screaming when touched, she seemed to understand why we did those things and tried her best not fighting back. It's a little funny, the whole situation… it affects me so bad that I've avoided been in the same room with that girl at all costs. By now, in the entire house there's only me, Molly (who's also moved in, due to her recent discovered Healer vocation), and my currently-unconscious, brand-new guest. Molly is presently 'grocery-shopping'… so I'm locked in the very same place I've been shunning away from. Yes, I'm locked. Molly cursed me inside this Potion-stinking room, telling me to 'keep a close eye' on the squirmy girl.
You'd think that after yelling until your lungs practically gave out, any person would be tired enough to sleep two days straight; but NO. Not this girl. She'd been tossing and turning even though she has a broken leg, a dislocated arm, and a recently reconstructed right hand, skull and rib not to mention, naturally, the big and many burns all over her body… but seemingly, none of that can stop her. «Bloody kid, just lay still would you? » I thought of saying, while swiftly grabbing her good shoulder and pinning it to the couch for the umpteenth time. She was about to assume a fetal position, but thanks to me she stood in place: lying flat on her back, hands on her stomach.
I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I'd been doing the same thing twice every ten minutes, and was bloody sick of it. Again, I sighed, convincing myself that there was no point in getting all worked up: «I'll have to 'take care' of her anyways, won't I?» Rising from my comfy armchair, I started walking randomly around the room. It had been a unanimous decision that she'd sleep in the room next to mine. For the record, that 'unanimous' decision didn't include me, they've banned me from any decision ever since I tried cursing her voiceless. They all said it was best if she stayed as close to me as possible, 'in case of emergency'… yeah right.
Unconsciously, I had reached the window. It was cold outside, cold and rainy. Unlike my prior years, I now love rainy days. It's natural that I've 'learnt' to love them. A sunny day would only make me yearn to be outside, «And since I'm forbidden to 'for my own good'… I can very well wish for some company here, can I not? » I watched silently as the rain hit mercilessly my window. Unavoidable, then, was for me to help thinking…
«Where the hell is Molly? »
«What the hell is taking her so long? »
«… It's probably the rain, isn't it? »
« Yeah, most likely it is just the rain… »
«… »
«But, what about Moony? »
«I hope he ain't too bad… »
«I was supposed to be with him this full moon, after all…»
«…if it only wasn't for this girl, I could have had some outside air for the first time in ages. »
Like possessed, my face turned mechanically to the bed. I half smiled cockily. Luck was finally on my side for the unstill kid was finally resting as I up-to-the-time had been forcing her to. I sighed, relieved. Perhaps I'd even slumber for a couple of minutes, now that I didn't have to watch her so closely. Dragging myself to the armchair in front of the bed, I let myself fall hushedly. Careful not to wake the girl up I put my feet on the corner of the couch, not bothering her at all, but making myself comfortable. After looking for the less distressing position, I was ready to catch my well-deserved nap when a spine-chilling whisper echoed in my head.
"Where am I?" it inquired. It literally shook my drowsiness to the floor, for I jumped off the armchair, wand in hand.
I lit all the candles with a wave of my wand, eyeing sharply around me. The room wasn't changed at all, and obviously there was no one there… «I must be losing my mind », I thought, reassuming my position by the bed. It was probably just my aforementioned 'thinking' what had caused this paranoid voice-hearing of mine. Not losing the grip of my wand, I shook my head and choose to just let it go. It was unlikely that anyone was in the room, so the voices were just those Azkaban-sequels Remus warned me about.
"Who are you?" It came again, as sinister as before. I jolted, caught totally off guard. I would talk to Remus about this as soon as he was back… but I'm alone here, and have nothing to shut the damn voices with. «I might as well just try and amuse myself with it…»
Like hell I would‼ It's bloodcurdling, bloody hell‼ I can't just talk back to a chilly voice that seems to come from the nether of the deepest cave…!
"This is not my dungeon. Why am I here?" Oh, right. It comes from a dungeon, not a cave. Silly me. Now I can calm down. Truth to be told, I wasn't thinking at all by the moment. I was awfully freaked out. The only thing I felt like doing was clenching myself into the tightest ball and disappearing from the surface of Earth. That voice brought such coldness into my soul…
...That same artic sensation I've been struggling to forget for months...
...I couldn't avoid it...
...I lost myself in the coldness...
«The Dementors. They were closing in...
...I could feel them closing in…
...I could feel them gliding towards my cell…
...The icy sensation...
...Their heavy breathing...
...The shriek of my cell's door when they open it…
...They're opening it slowly, giving me time enough for the fear to rise…
...Yes, it's like this every time…
...They laugh…
...I hear them laugh at me...
...They love doing this to me specially...
...They suck my happiness in, taking their time…
...I know why they do it…
...Of course I do…
...Someone is sending them to specially torment me...
...They don't open any other cell unless there's a dead corpse...
...To me instead, they even bring the bloody food in...
...They do it on purpose...
...They laugh at me...
...They steal my memories...
...They make me more miserable than anyone else in the whole bloody prison...
...They love tormenting me specially…
"...Oh James…"
"...Oh Lily…"
"...What have I done…?"
"...If it wasn't for me trying to be smart, your son wouldn't be an orphan by now…"
"...Oh Harry you must be hating me with your soul…"
An all of sudden, I felt my jaw twist... A punch? Dementors are un-corporeal, they can't hit…»
"BLOODY HELL SIRIUS, SNAP OUT OF IT!"
Was that… Remus' voice? So… I wasn't in my cell anymore? No, wait. I've been out of Azkaban for two years now. Right.
«Boy I hate these flashbacks. »
I was completely unaware of when I lost consciousness, but by the time I came to my senses I was sitting on the farthest and darkest corner of the room, rocking myself back and forth, holding my knees tightly. I was covered in a cold sweat, and if it hadn't been for Remus, I might have stayed that way for a long, long time. "Sirius, mate; talk to me." I heard him plead, his voice fear-filled. For a second, I thought I would be sick… but I started breathing normally again, and slowly started regaining consciousness of myself.
«I'm in my house...
...It's ok...
...I'm in my house...
...Remus is here, see? It's ok… it's ok…»
"I… I'm ok, mate. It's ok." I muttered. Still I was breathing heavily, but Remus helped me up and materialized a cup of chocolate while I sat in the arm chair again. It was dawn by then, and most of the candles had consumed so the room was hardly illuminated.
"Why was it now? Do you remember anything before, you know… before it came back?"
Same old Moony of always, doing his best to not cause wrong. Not even to the people that have doubted him on no foundation. "I…" Remembering the wizard's prison was always the least welcomed thing. All the guilt slapped me clean and twice. «There he was, the man that I dared called a traitor for over a decade, based only in the fact that he was a lycanthrope, not minding that he was one of my best friends… Here he is, in front of me, deeply concerned by the pain and psychosis of the person he'd trusted for years, and from day to night just damned him like everyone else…»
«Doubting my best friend, bloody hell I deserved Azkaban» I can't even stare at him.
He's truly concerned, very worried. He sat by the bed, in front of me. Apparently he caught my train of thought, for he just smiled and grabbed my nape. "Common mate, don't get all weepy on me!" he said, shaking me up a bit. I was about to snap at that, when the voice came right back into my head.
"From here, it looks like you did deserve it, matter-of-factly" it charged me.
"Bloody hell! Just leave me the fuck alone!" I couldn't help but shout back, grasping hold of the hair by the sides of my head, clenching over myself. Remus let go instantly of me. Well, I couldn't blame him. I would have surely done the same thing. Yet, I didn't want Remus to think I actually wanted him away from me. The entire contrary! He was everything I had now, since Harry's in Hogwarts. "I'm sorry mate, it caught me off guard" I blurted out, letting go slightly of my hair, ready to shout again if I heard the voice at all. I lifted my eyes to the man in front of me. To my mortification, sorrow, and most especially, embarrassment; Remus returned my gaze with a huge look between shocked and hurt. I hurried to apologize, something I can't get enough of doing after any relapse. "I, I'm sorry mate. I, I wasn't talking to you, I swear. It's just that, it's… there're voices in my head, Remus." I confessed. But he…
"I… I heard it too, Sirius." He cut me half-thought, alarmed.
Hate it? Please let me know, I dislike disappointing people ; )